


Telltale Habits

by marbled



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Hunters & Hunting, Kissing, Slow Burn, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marbled/pseuds/marbled
Summary: You're cold, dirty and a few hours from death. You have nothing and nobody and you're certain you've met your fate. But all of that's about to change when you find yourself in the grasp of a mysterious man, who’s about to change your life forever.This fic will mostly follow in-game events and storyline! First bit of smut is in Chapter 7, for those who like to skip straight to that (I’m guilty lol) but I do recommend reading the previous chapters as they help set the scene ;) I hope you enjoy reading, as always kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3





	1. Storm Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fic, so any comments/kudos are much appreciated! Please let me know what you think, and chapters shouldn't be to far apart for now. Thank you guys <3

The coarse wind of the grizzlies hit and rattled the surrounding pine trees as they lashed out at you, swirling and thrashing out in every direction, almost screaming your name as the wind tore them from side to side. All animals had taken cover from the explosive weather, but you stood alone in the middle of the dirt track, freezing rain pelting down, covering your trembling body and tangled hair.

Your head was pounding, it felt as though a million needles were driving themselves right into your skull as you began to run, or tried to. You had to get away, you couldn’t let them reach you again, you had made it this far and you weren’t prepared to let a storm, of all things, claim your life. But your body had other plans.

Your vision began to spin, a ringing in your ears grew ever louder as you found yourself stumbling forward into the mud, your knees buckling beneath you.

Suddenly short of breath, you found yourself gasping for air as you desperately cried for help. It was futile, you had decided, and that there was no way anyone could hear your whimpering, excluding the men that had chased you into this predicament. But you continued to cry out, desperation overcoming you as you clawed at the wet mud beneath your small and helpless figure.

Until you saw the stocky knees of a brown-stained Kentucky Saddler coming your way, and you had just enough time to hear the gravelly voice of its rider shout _“Miss, you alright down there?” _Before your eyes slid shut and you fell into a murky state of unconsciousness.

You awoke briefly to the rhythmic three beat drum of a horse’s canter beneath you.

You were sat slumped backward in the saddle, your back resting against the chest of the animal’s rider who you presumed, from his gruff voice previously, was a man. A broad one at that, he must be at least double your size and he radiated warmth.

You could feel his chest rise and fall against you smoothly as he clicked his tongue encouragingly at his steed before a sudden wave of nausea and fear mangled your body, causing you to inhale sharply and squirm in the saddle, coaxing the rider’s hand to drop one rein and steady you, his large hand securing across your chest.

He was speaking to you, his voice hushed and you assumed it was in an attempt to calm you but your hearing was still distant and muffled.  
Considering your situation, it would have been more than wise to scramble your way out of his grasp onto the forest floor and run, as fast as you could to the nearest town or settlement. But aside from being half unconscious and barely able to see, the gentle nature of the man’s movements and his calming breathing put you at ease, and it wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter now however as your eyelids fluttered shut and darkness consumed you once again.

Your eyes squint open again, your breathing is shallow but you are alive.

You can’t make out much of your surroundings as the dark of night simmers around you, but you can see the outline of a figure lying next to you, and you can hear his soft snores and muttering as he sleeps. His figure illuminated by the meagre but glowing campfire in front of you. You couldn’t make out any of his features however, merley that he was big. Much bigger than you.

The storm that had raged through the grizzlies just hours ago was now nowhere to be seen; this evening air was humid and damp but dry.

Then that same, nauseating feeling of fear and dread overcame you, you had no idea who this man was, you had said not a word to him but yet he was lying just yards away from you after rescuing your limp and dying body from a muddy track.

He could’ve killed you, or raped you, or hit, tied or threatened you by now but as far as you were aware he had done none of those things. Simply saved your life, and given you a warm coat to lie on. You tried to sit up but your head was hammering, so you lay back down with a mild huff and closed your eyes.

The more logical side of you was screaming at you to take what you could from this man, and run as fast as you could.

He was sleeping now, but what when he wakes up? What if he does want his way with you? Or what if he does want to kill you? You are half his size, with no weapons or strength to defend yourself. But you still close your eyes, and let yourself fall into a lucid state of sleep.

You wake again to the orange hue of the sun, and the crackle of the newly replenished fire before you. You can smell strong coffee and the crisp air of the morning, and you sit up slowly, as not to awaken the monstrous headache of the previous night.

You rub your eyes with the palm of your hand, as not to rub dry mud into your eyes.  
Then you see him, he’s sitting to your left with his side toward you, sketching the idyllic landscape in a well-used brown journal, his legs splayed out straight in front of him and he looks almost childlike, bashful.

He must’ve felt your gaze as he turns toward you, quickly closing his journal and looking at you with piercing blue eyes. He raises his eyebrows momentarily before standing up and running his hand through his blondy-brown hair, then quickly covering it with his hat.

“You’re awake,” he states, almost in disbelief, as if he had expected something else.

He walks over to the percolator resting on the grill above the fire and pours out a cup of coffee, swirls of hot steam emitting from the liquid.

“You okay Miss?” He has a gravelly gruff voice, coated by a thick southern accent that is both charming and gentle but you can tell his character has many layers, that may not be as charming and gentle as his voice.

You swallow nervously and answer with a tepid “yes” so quiet and scarce you begin to think he didn’t hear you before he hands you the cup of coffee and responds, “You sure? You was pretty beaten up by the time I found you, wasn’t sure you was going to make it through the night if I’s being honest.”

He mused, scratching the nape of his neck, his hat coming forward to cover his face as his head dipped down, allowing the rifle strapped to his back to peak out and it wasn’t long before you noticed the two guns either side of his belt and the string of ammo slung over his shoulder.

Your knees were pulled toward your chest defensively and you sipped the coffee with trepidation, watching him like a hawk as you breathed in and out abnormally fast while still trying to keep your composure.

Sensing your nervousness he took a step back, his hands raised as if he was surrendering before sitting back down in his original position, facing you this time, one leg flat out and the other pulled up toward his chest.

“Miss, I ain’t gonna hurt you,” he spoke softly, looking at you from under his hat, “trust me, if I’d wanted to I’ve had plenty of chances, you been unconscious for hours.” His words calmed you slightly and you let out a small breath of air, crossing your legs and taking another mouthful of hot coffee.

You looked down at the fur-lined coat beneath you and ran your mud-stained fingers through the fibres of fur before you said “thank you,” catching the man’s gaze, “for saving me, and for the coffee, and...this.”  
You gestured to the coat. Your voice was small but genuine as you brushed a strand of hair from your face. Despite your circumstance, your cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink and your eyes reflected the glow of the rising sun. You looked beautiful, even with matted hair and dried mud coating most of your body.

The man thought as much as he stood up again, dropping eye contact and clearing his throat almost nervously.

“S’alright, not like I could just leave you in the road to die is it?” You shifted yourself off the coat, your face grimaced with pain as you stand.

“You could have.” You say as you brush your unruly hair behind your ears, your big eyes glancing over to his horse.

A stocky dun Kentucky Saddler, its belly was dappled and it had what you would believe were long white socks that ran up its legs, now stained a deep brown by the mud of last night. You heard the man huff, what you presumed was a small chuckle, as he said “S’pose you’re right, but I’d like to think there’s a little good in me.”

He poured the remaining coffee from the percolator onto the fire and watched as the flames died out before he rubbed his boot amongst the ashes, cooling any embers that were left. You handed him his cup and watched as he tucked it back into the satchel hanging from his shoulder. He took the coat you’d been lying on, and his own bedroll and packed them into the saddle of his steed, before beckoning you over to him.

You stepped toward him, your arms wrapped around your shoulders as you shivered quite viciously, the sun was out but the morning air was still sharp. “You look cold,” he said as you reached his side.

“It’s-I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You watched as he turned back around and took the large blue coat you’d been sleeping on from the saddle bag of his horse and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Mr, I can’t have this, I’ll get it dirty; I’m covered in mud.” You protested but he’d already picked you up, big hands folding around your waist as he placed you on the back of his horse, following you up shortly after.

“Well I’d rather you dirty my old coat than die of hypothermia on the back o’ my horse,” he retaliated before clicking his horse into a gentle trot.

“Thank you.” You said again, feeling him tense beneath you as you wrapped your hands around his waist.

“What was you doin’ all alone in the middle of a storm like that anyways? Couldn’t see you had a horse anywhere either, and you’ve got bruises all over.”

You dipped your head to watch the ground move away from you, the horse picking up a gentle canter as you reached a grassy clearing.

“It’s a long, long story…” you trailed off, your voice shallow now, your banging headache from earlier deciding to make an unwelcome return as you grabbed your temple in pain.

“Well don’t worry ‘bout it now, we’ve just gotta make it back and there'll be time enough for explanations.” The man said, urging his horse into a more powerful canter, borderline gallop.

“Back to where..?” You urged, uncertainty pooling in your stomach once more.

“Camp. My… friends and I are camped up near Valentine, you heard of it? There’s a dozen or so of us. We should be able to help you, get you back on your feet at least, give you some food and the necessities.” He said.

“I’m Arthur, by the way. Arthur Morgan.”

_Arthur Morgan._

Your stomach, heart and almost every other organ in your body dropped.

_It couldn’t be him._

Your breathing hitched, a stone cold feeling rushing through you.

_That’s just not possible._

You started sweating like mad, your head pounding stronger and stronger, the ringing in your ears intensifying with every beat of his horse’s hooves until you felt yourself slipping from behind him, you had just enough time to feel him reach behind and grab you, cursing loudly, before everything went black.


	2. Newcomers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start to learn that words mean very little in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support regarding the last chapter, I hope you guys enjoy this one also! Again, any kudos/comments are much appreciated <3

You tossed and turned viciously, you could feel your dirtied clothes cling to your body as sweat rolled down your back and coated your forehead. 

_ “No! No, Arth-Arthur!” _You half shouted, half whimpered as you lay on the raised cot, a sweating, trembling mess. 

“Christ, what have you been doin’ to her Arthur?” Bill mused, taking a swig from the half empty whisky bottle in his hand. 

Arthur shot him an evil glare, “I ain’t _ touched _ her.” 

He turned his attention back to the small group of people that had gathered around you inside the tent, they’d tried to calm your temperature with damp flannels but as of yet, nothing had worked in easing you. 

“She was bruised and beat when I found her, someone or somethin’ clearly been harrasin’ her for awhile, she’s got marks all over.” Arthur explained, his brows furrowed under his hat as a thick silence filled the air, pierced only occasionally by your whimpers. 

“Well I think it’s best if we all give her some space. Starin’ ain’t gonna wake her up.” Dutch said at last. “Susan, would you sit with her a while?” And motioned to a chair nearby which Miss Grimshaw quickly pulled to your bedside. 

“Of course.” 

The remaining camp members filtered away from your tent slowly, each one of them discussing their own possible theories for your condition while Arthur lingered a little longer by your cot. 

His eyes scanning your battered and frail body before huffing in dissatisfaction and ambling over to his own tent. 

_ Helped a girl. Found her out alone in the grizzlies, thought she was dead when I saw her lying still in the mud and she was awfully close to it, death, I reckon. She seemed nervous of me at first. Don’t blame her, don’t have the most approachable nor pleasing face but I thought she’d calmed down till she almost fell off the back of Joey on the way home. Got her back and she was a shaking, crying mess. Sweating something awful to, kept calling my name. Said some other things as well but Dutch insisted we leave her be. Poor thing, covered in bruises and marks. But I’m foolish, we can hardly feed ourselves, another mouth is the last thing we need right now. _

You wake up suddenly, panting and coughing as you sit up. You take a few minutes to calm down and steady your breathing, looking around the tent you are lying in. 

You notice your clothes have been changed, your mud soaked blouse and skirt have been replaced by a clean blue dress, nothing fancy but it feels amazing compared to your attire of the past 4 months.

You stand up, shaky but a lot more stable than you were the previous night, your headache now easing off as you blink slowly, stretching your arms out in front of you before the entrance to the tent folds inward and Arthur walks in, holding what you presume is a can of food but you don’t have much time to look as you stumble backward, falling against the fabric of the tent in desperation to get away. 

“Get away from me!” You shout, your eyes wild with fear and your breathing rapid as you scrabble to the back of the tent.

“Hey! Hey, come on, it’s-it’s alright!” Arthur says, dropping the can and raising his hands, then kneeling down in front of you, arms still raised. “Miss, Miss I ain’t gonna hurt you, I promise.” 

His voice is soothing and hushed as the opening of the tent folds inward again as a woman enters, she’s wearing a black dress and her hair is pulled into a bun atop her head.

“Everything alright in here Mr Morgan?” She asks, eyeing you over. 

Arthur doesn’t acknowledge her, only moves closer toward you on bent knees, “I don’t know what’s happened to you but you’re safe here,” he exclaims “I promise.” His eyes are looking straight into you and a concerned expression settles on his face, mouth pulled downward into a slight frown as he offers you his hands. 

You hadn’t had time to look at him face on, but you thought instantly how good looking he was, despite your situation. Muddy blonde hair and blue eyes, husky voice, he was nothing like the O’Driscolls’ had described him. 

You swallow thickly but take his offer as he pulls you to your feet. “I-I-I can’t stay here,” you sprout, “I’ve got to- I’ve got to go, I, they’ll be searching for me…” 

The woman stepped forward from behind Arthur, “Who’ll be searching for you Miss?” 

“_ Them _ , _ Colm _.. the O’Driscolls…” you answered sheepishly, “they, they spoke about you…” you pointed toward Arthur “talked about the, the things you done, told me you ran with… with a man named Dutch, told me you was cold-blooded killers, all of you and that I should sleep with my eyes open…” 

Arthur’s face had turned a shade of white, his eyes had lost their previous calmness and were filled with… with something you couldn’t read, anger, or maybe, embarrassment, or… rage, or all three. 

He stepped away from you, “You... _an_ _O’Driscoll?_” 

He spat the words at you, his stature beginning to scare you as you blurted out “No… no! They-they took me, from my ranch, they killed my-my daddy, they burned and stole everything I had… they-they, they _ hurt _ me.” 

You felt cool tears stream down your cheeks and you suddenly felt stupid, overwhelmingly stupid for allowing yourself to show two strangers such weakness, or three strangers now as you noticed a man had entered the tent sometime during your explanation. 

You wiped your eyes quickly, rubbing your trembling hand across them before looking back toward Arthur. 

He was looking at the ground, one hand coming up to massage his temple, “What is it with O’driscolls and burnin’ houses...” he muttered. 

The new face walked from behind Arthur, he walked with his own orbit, a strong sense of confidence and an intelligent demeanour, a cigar in hand. 

“Miss, I am, so sorry for what these terrible men have taken from you.” 

He placed his hand on your shoulder, comforting and gentle as he started to lead you outside, walking calmly past Arthur and the woman before continuing “I, to, have lost someone to them, my darling Annabelle. And Sadie here,” he motioned to a woman smoking a cigarette under the shade of a tree nearby “well they took her house and her husband.” 

He left your side to sit down at a circular table, offering you a seat next to him as a few other people gathered around, their faces seemed friendly enough and a few of the women smiled at you sweetly as you followed him. 

“Now, I can’t guarantee that what they told you about us are all lies. But I can guarantee that unlike _Colm_ and his… gang, we live as a _family_. We fight for_ each other,_ _together,_ for a better world. We aren’t saints but we _ain’t_ murderers. Colm kills for the sake of killing, and takes for the sake of takin’. And we ain’t _nothing_ like that.” He reassures, his hand on your shoulder. “I know things won’t be easy, but you’ve got folks lookin’ out for you now.” 

The man has a silver tongue, you decide. You suppose he is right. Arthur and the rest of the camp have shown you nothing but hospitality and kindness since you arrived. If they wanted something from you, they could’ve had it by now. You relax at the thought and smile politely at the man before you. 

“Thank you, I- I appreciate that. It’s been… rough, these past months. I suppose I’m lucky Arthur found me when he did.” You say, brushing the unruly strands of hair behind your ear as you relax into the chair. “And you must be… Dutch?” You ask.

“The very same,” he responds, smiling at you fondly “and you are…"

“Y/F/N, Y/L/N” you respond, returning his warm smile. “Well it is a pleasure to meet you Miss L/N, and what a beautiful name, I haven’t heard it before.”

“Thank you.” You grinned. You had forgotten what it was like to be complimented. “My father always liked to be eccentric” you mused.

“A man of greatness then, clearly!” Dutch cheered before putting out his cigar and standing up. 

“Take some time to get to know everyone, and you can sleep in the girls tent for now. Miss Grimshaw should have some bedding you can use. We’ll speak later Y/N.” He squeezed your shoulder before leaving you with Miss Grimshaw. 

“We’ll make a hard worker of you yet Miss L/N! This way.” She ushered you toward the girls tent and shoved a bundle of bedding into your arms. 

“Here you are, set this up how you like. Pearson should be done with his stew in about an hour. If you can even call it a stew…” she mumbled under her breath, “tastes more like pig shit to me.” 

She groaned before walking away to scald what you saw to be a drunken priest vomiting onto the legs of a sleeping old man. You notice said man's displeasure at waking to vomit on his legs. After smiling at the particularly amusing scene for maybe a little too long you turned away to begin laying down your bed. 

Once you were finished you sat down and began running your hands through your hair and straightening out your dress. Your hair was certainly not as matted and dirty as when Arthur had found you, but it was still rather thick and tangled. After 10 minutes of combing it through with your fingers, you gave up and let it flow loose down your shoulders, running a hand through it one last time to keep it from your eyes. 

You look to your left and notice Arthur staring at you intently, he was sitting down, one hand resting on his thigh, another holding a bottle of whisky which he took a long drink from, keeping eye contact with you until he threw the empty bottle on the ground and began to amble toward the large gathering of people sitting around a fire. 

You were watching him walk away, slightly taken aback by the expression on his face when you caught him looking at you until you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. 

“Spying on Arthur?” A warm voice rang out next to you followed by a breathy giggle, “I’m Mary-Beth.” 

The girl sat down next to you, she was small, a similar figure to your own and had beautiful curly hair that framed her equally as beautiful face, a genuine smile plastered on it. 

You smiled back, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” you retort playfully, “he scares me… in a weird way. And it’s nice to meet you Mary-Beth, I’m Y/N.” 

She giggled again, “You’re scared of _ Arthur? _ He’s the soppiest man alive!” She laughs this time, pulling you to your feet. 

“All the girls here love him,” she continues “he’s kind, truly. He can be very… closeted though, and miserable, and sulky… he has a lot of anger…” Her voice trailed off but enthusiasm quickly found her again, “but he’s lovely really!” 

You responded with a breathy laugh, “I believe you” you said, smiling.

“Anyway, I came to tell you the stew is ready, we usually eat around the fire together but you can sit wherever you like.” 

She says, leading you over to the large pot of food. 

You haven’t had a proper meal for what must be over a week, living on bits and pieces here and there so to say you were famished would be an understatement. 

“I think I’ll eat with you, if that’s OK.” You smile at her as she hands you a bowl full of stew.

“Of course it is! This way.” 

The rest of the night is spent eating and talking with the fellow camp members. Dutch toasts to your arrival and you even indulge in some whisky, grimacing slightly as the liquid burns your throat but it helps smooth over the trauma of the past 4 months which will undoubtedly be brought up again. A man who’s name you have learned to be Javier is strumming a guitar, mostly singing in a language you don’t understand but you enjoy nonetheless. 

You notice Arthur sitting opposite you, he must be on his fourth or fifth bottle of the night and it’s the first time you have seen him truly smile. His lips curving upward as he listens to Dutch’s retelling of a story from many years ago. 

But what really gets your attention is the laugh he makes when the gang begins singing along to a folk song, it’s a deep and hoarse chuckle and a noise you won’t be forgetting anytime soon, especially not when he catches you staring and smiles bashfully your way, raising his bottle your direction as his teal blue eyes catch the light of the fire. 

You smile back heartily, but deep down you’re worried. 

Worried and scared that someone you’ve known less than two days merely _ smiling _ at you could electrify your insides and send shivers through your spine. 


	3. Pretty Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start to learn more about the gang, and, Mr Morgan of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support, I appreciate it so much! Some leisure time with Arthur, and we start to uncover the reader's story...

You sat cross-legged in front of the three girls, each of you holding a cup of coffee, the morning sun just beginning to blanket the camp in a hazy orange glow as you each giggled about events from the previous night.

You’d been here merely a day, but part of you felt as though you’d been travelling with the gang for years. 

“No, but that ain’t nothing compared to what I seen Uncle do last night,” Karen jests, her curly blonde hair bouncing across her shoulders playfully as she speaks “old bastard walks straight up to Susan, piss drunk mind you, and he tries to _kiss_ the old crone! He got a smack round the face, and he can show you as much! The mark’s still there!” 

The girls all start laughing, yourself included and you realise it’s the first time in months that you’ve had a proper laugh, or felt genuine joy. 

Tilly looks your way. She’s a dark skinned girl with thick black hair and a pretty face. 

You hadn’t spoken much to her, but you sensed she was kind-hearted the minute you had seen her. “_ Eyes is always the gateway to a soul” _ you remember your father telling you. 

“So how about you, Y/N? What’s your story?” All the girls lean in and look at you with wide eyes, genuine interest sewn into every looming gaze. You suddenly felt shy, and vulnerable. Smiling softly as you looked at the ground, one hand twirling a strand of loose hair while the other drew circles on the bedding beneath you. 

“Oh I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun…” you say “it ain’t as happy as all the stories we been telling.”

Mary-Beth took your hand in hers “Y/N, as much as we wish our lives could be as excitin’ and joyous as all the romantic fairytale books we read, we know that ain’t how life works. Everyone here’s got a story, and 99 percent of them ain’t happy. You don’t have to tell us anythin’, but I know how much it helps me to tell what’s on my mind.” 

You look up at her, eyes warm and soft as she smiles at you.

“Alright…” you say quietly, moving yourself so your knees push against your chest. 

“My mother died during childbirth,” you began and felt Mary-Beth squeeze your hand, “so my father raised me. I was an only child, so he was my world. We ran the ranch together, roping cattle and the like. He taught me to hunt, taught me how to use a gun. We fed ourselves with what I caught and he’d trade cows and such in town, we didn’t have much but we had each other and for the most part that was all we needed.”

You took in a deep breath and continued, “My life was quiet, really. I had a _ thing _ with a fella named Thomas I met out riding once, he was real kind to me and I’d see him whenever I had time but he was caught up with… bad men. Real bad men. One day we was out riding together and some of them caught up with him… we had to shoot our way out and I remember it clear as day; first time I ever killed anyone. I loved him, really, but my daddy never liked his, profession, if you could call it that. It weren’t his fault he fell in with them, had struggles of his own. We drifted apart though and eventually I found out he’d been shot up near blackwater, some crazy shootout or somethin’ like that.” You laughed dryly. 

“He was a silly man. But I still miss him. And my daddy, too much than I should tell. The O’driscolls got word of our good cattle and the fact that they was bein’ kept by just an old man and his daughter. I tried my best to fight them off, but there was just to many. They killed him, my daddy, right in front of me and took me and anything else they could find, burned the house to embers when they were done as well. They brought me with them, I was their _ “little princess” _ or some other horse shit. Eventually I got so worn down by it all, I decided I’d take my chances at runnin’ and if I failed, well, dyin’ didn’t seem like such a bad option at the time either. The rest is history I suppose…” 

You gestured to the air around you and gulped your coffee. 

“That’s bad business.” Karen said, a pitiful smile just crossing her face.

“Well, that’s the way life goes, I suppose. Daddy always had a saying _ “that’s the way it is”. _Used to say it every time I was worrying. He said he didn’t believe in the past and that what’s done is done.” You sigh fondly, tracing circles on the fabric beneath you once again.

“Your father sounds mighty kind.” Tilly chimed, touching your leg comfortingly. 

“He was,” you smile “best man I ever knew.”

After the girls shared some more stories with you, good and bad, you all stand up and start to work. 

Susan gave you some clothes and rags to wash, and once you’d finished that she had an abundance of other jobs lined up for you like cleaning guns, sewing worn dresses, folding bed rolls and other menial tasks that were starting to drive you slightly crazy. 

You were used to working, but it was meaningful, rewarding work like roping your cows, feeding and breaking horses, hunting. You were reluctantly about to start on another round of washing when you overheard Pearson, the camp cook complaining loudly.

“People, I can’t feed any of you without any _ food _ to cook! Someone needs to bring me some meat, or you all better get used to empty stomachs, because we’ve got nothing left!” 

Dropping the crate of washing you were carrying, you hurried over to him.

“I can go!” You chimed, “hunting, I mean. I’m a good shot, I promise.” 

You were already pulling your hair into a braid at the nape of your neck and smoothing down your...dress. Ah. You weren’t quite sure how practical hunting in a dress would be but at this point you’d do anything to get away from Susan and her grating chores.

Pearson scoffs and you imagine he’s about to give you an earful on how “ this ain’t a woman’s job” before Dutch walks over from his tent, holding a book, one by Evelyn Miller you notice.

“That might be a good idea, Y/N. Give you somethin’ to take your mind off it all. Arthur!” He shouts, and you both look over to where Arthur is sleeping under a tree, hat pulled down over his eyes. 

You watch him jerk abruptly awake, hat falling off his head as he tries to sit up straight, all disoriented as he flails his hands around to steady himself. “Mhhh, yea?” He groans as he stands up and stretches, before putting his hat back on and walking toward you. 

You try hard to stifle your smile as he ambles over. You can hardly remember the image of a merciless, ruthless killer the O’driscolls had painted in your head of him. 

“What’re you smilin’ at woman?” He questions playfully.

Dutch clicks his fingers in front of Arthur impatiently “Arthur? Would you mind taking Miss L/N here hunting?”

He looks you over “She ever even held a gun before though Dutch?” Arthur says, a hint of genuine concern lingering on his tongue.

You roll your eyes. “I’m right here Mr Morgan. And if you’d quit _ messin’ around _and get ready, you’d have found out by now that I can handle myself and a gun, pretty damn well.” You scald him and walk away to find Mary-Beth in hope of borrowing some more suitable clothing. 

“Well,” Dutch says, taking a puff of his cigar “I like her.”

Arthur rests his hands on his hips and shakes his head but anyone looking would’ve been able to see the tiniest hint of a smile beneath the cover of his hat.

Mary-Beth is more than happy to lend you some old riding pants and a clean blouse as well as some old boots. 

You thank her gratefully and make your way toward Arthur who has just finished saddling up his huge Kentucky Saddler, a man who’s named you’ve learnt to be Charles is close by, leaning up against a beautiful appaloosa. 

Arthur turns and watches you as you walk over, the stub of a cigarette still in his mouth as he takes a final draw on it before flicking it into the shrubbery near by. 

“Well, you certainly look the part now.” He teases.

You raise your eyebrows and shoot him a playfully menacing glare.

“Charles says you can take Taima here. I’ve got a rifle and bow you can borrow.” He gestures to the array of guns slung over the saddle of his horse. “S’long as you promise not to shoot me.” You hear him mutter.

“Well thank you, I appreciate that.” You smile, deliberately ignoring his previous statement before walking toward Charles and his mount.

“She’ll look after you.” He says, his voice deep and calming. You imagine he is a man of few words, but someone you could see yourself getting along well with. 

“Thank you, it’s been quite a while since I’ve ridden, I’m a little nervous.”

He nods at you before gently helping you up onto her back. Patting her neck lovingly before glancing toward Arthur who was already circling his very enthusiastic horse. “Be safe.” His eyes flickered between the both of you and you saw Arthur give him a two fingered salute before urging his horse into a pretty explosive trot.

You followed suit, Taima had a very graceful gait, it was easy to sit as she caught up with Arthur’s steed almost instantly. 

Once the two of you were riding in unison it wasn’t long before you were accustomed to Taima’s movements and found yourself relaxing into the saddle, taking in the dewy morning air.

“Sorry,” you said “for, bein’ so weird with you yesterday in that tent.” Arthur’s gaze instantly found yours, he looked confused for a brief moment before his expression settled into one of curiosity.

“It’s just… been difficult, what with loosin’... well everything and everyone I loved. I’ve been so riled up these past months, stuck with them O’driscolls, constantly worried I’d be stabbed, or worse, in my sleep.”

His face turned sympathetic as he returned his gaze to the path ahead, “I… can imagine. I’m real sorry about what they did to you. They’s awful men, but I ain’t really in any position to be judging other men’s decency.” He laughed slightly, scratching the nape of his neck.

A telltale habit of his nervousness, you’d noticed.

You fixed your gaze to between Taima’s ears as you huffed slightly through your nose, his words a harsh reminder of just what sort of people you were associated with now.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that just yet.

The ride was beautiful, the sun had just finished rising and it spilled a dewy orange haze that peaked through the trees every so often. You spent the duration of it talking with Arthur, you explained your story to him and even shared a few laughs as he joked about his younger years with Dutch and Hosea.

“And then o’ course there was that time they was teachin’ me to ride,” Arthur said reminiscently “must’ve been about 16 at the time. Dutch decided it would be a good idea to let me try my luck on this huge unruly bastard, must’ve been a shire or somethin’ like that, all I can remember is he wanted me unconscious. Damn nearly lost a hand tryna’ saddle the thing, let alone ride it.” He chuckled, “thought I was just startin’ to get the hang of things when he decided to bolt, and well, as you can imagine I came straight off but my boot rather liked the stirrup and he dragged me miles before Dutch could get anywhere close enough to stop the damn thing!”

He told his stories to you with such enthusiasm and vigour, you found yourself hopelessly laughing after each one.

“So you ain’t always ridden like a charmin’ horse wrangler?” You say giggling, “Can’t imagine much’d get through you these days though.” 

He faces away from you abruptly, focusing on the path ahead. “You don’t know the half of it missy.” His tone soft but slightly sour. And he was right - you really didn’t know the half of it.

But still you felt your fear and apprehension melt away with every word he said. Finding yourself relaxing more and more, starting to enjoy his company instead of constantly planning your escape or worrying he’ll turn on you.

After about an hour of riding, Arthur finally pulled his horse to a stop near some trees, just the other side of a grassy clearing. You recognised your location instantly, the meadows of West Elizabeth. Near the town of Strawberry. You remembered the trips you and your father would take there together, the jokes and stories you shared now just precious memories.

“So, you can hunt?” Arthur asked, or it was more of an inquiry, as he started to unpack what you saw to be a varmint rifle and bow. 

You nod, “Sure. My father taught me many years ago, but I’m more used to rifles than bows.” You exclaimed, dismounting Taima and looping her reins around a stocky tree.

“Well, why don’t we try and kill some deer first? I spotted a herd of them just a little way away from here and I can help you with the bow, it’s easier than it looks.” He said, handing you the bow and a handful of arrows.

“I’m not so sure about that, maybe you’re just a good hunter.” You said smiling and followed him as he began to move toward the clearing, crouching down as he moved through some of the thick shrubbery. 

He turned to you and scoffed “Hardly. Now come ‘ere and I’ll help you with that bow.” He motioned to a spot ahead of him.

You crouched down in front of him, just out of sight of the herd of deer. You realised the two of you were just inches away from each other. If he shuffled just a little bit closer, his back would be pressing against yours and the thought of it all suddenly became overwhelmingly distracting. 

You swallowed thickly as you fiddled with the arrow, and you were sure Arthur could hear your racing heartbeat but if he could, he didn’t mention it. 

He kept perfectly calm behind you as he moved his arm across your shoulder to point to a deer just in front of you. “That one.” His voice was a very gravelly deep, almost a growl. His breath tickling the nape of your neck as he spoke. 

“Now, position the arrow just like this.” He said as he moved your arm back slightly so the arrow was poised against the string, his hands, or his whole body rather, radiated heat and you felt your cheeks flush just a little at his touch. _ What is coming over me? _ You thought. _ I barely know this man and I’m already a flustered nervous mess around him! Pull it together. _You scalded to yourself.

“Just like shootin’ a gun, take your shot on empty lungs.” Arthur’s voice quickly snapped you back into reality as you forced the intrusive thoughts from your mind and concentrated hard on the deer before you.

On an exhale you release the string and to your relief the arrow hit its target and you watch as the deer comes down swiftly. 

“Well done.” Arthur congratulated, offering you a hand as he stood up.

“Well I couldn’t have done it without your help, Mr Morgan.” You smile, taking his hand as he pulls you to your feet.

“Nonsense, you’s got a good aim, anyone could see that.” He says as he begins skinning the deer carcass.

“Practice makes perfect”. You say swiftly.

“You got a lot of experience shootin’ things then?” He looks up at you.

“Mostly just animals.”

“Mostly?”

“You remember Thomas? I mentioned him earlier. He ran with bad men, and well I found myself caught up in a few scraps with him. That and fending off, well, tryin’ to fend off those O’driscolls. Nothin’ major but like I said earlier, I can handle myself, Arthur.”

Arthur laughs under his breath. “I believe you can woman, trust me.”

_ Y/N has settled in well here, looks like she’s staying for now, at least. She seems like a kind girl, knows what she wants, that’s for sure. I’d say she’s sweet but I ain’t so sure she’s as innocent and reserved as I previously thought, not after she told me about all the fellas her and a previous sweetheart was going around shooting. But who am I to judge. Everyone’s got reasons they don’t always care to share I find. Or maybe that’s just because of me. But there’s more to her I reckon. She intrigues me nonetheless, clearly a little too much and I trust I’ll only end up making a fool of myself like always. _


	4. Odd Jobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hosea and Arthur take you out on your first job and it’s mostly, a success. You also propose a trip to the bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support guys <3 As I say this is a slow burn but the romance is coming :) I hope you enjoy this one x please leave feedback if you can!

You’d returned back to camp later that evening, Arthur had brought down another deer and you a rabbit so you felt satisfied enough with the trip.

“Well done today, Miss L/N. You got good huntin’ skills.” Arthur says as he dismounts his stallion, whose name you’d learned was Joey.

“Well thank you Arthur, you ain’t too bad yourself.” You nudge his arm playfully as best you can with a deer carcass slung over your shoulder. 

“We should go hunting more often, we make a good pair I reckon.” He says.

“That we do. Thanks. For takin’ me out today I, enjoyed myself.” You say, your words drawing rather sheepish all of a sudden.

“Always nice to have some good company.”

Something about being called good company makes you flush a beet red and you’re certain Arthur could see your rosy cheeks, despite your messy attempt to face away as you turn toward camp.

Thankfully he doesn’t mention it as he ushers you over to Pearson’s table, slinging the deer and rabbit down next to it.

“Not bad Morgan,” Pearson says eyeing up the two deer and the rabbit. “This should do nicely.”

“Don’t thank me. Miss L/N here did most of the work. Can handle a gun better than you, that's for sure.” Arthur says chuckling as he puts a hand on Pearson’s shoulder, giving him a rather vigorous shake.

You try your best to stifle a laugh but instead make a rather unruly snort, causing you to grab your hand over your mouth.

“Oh don’t you start.” Pearson shoots both of you a glare as he begins preparing the animals.

“Hey, don't look at me like that partner!” Arthur laughs again, “Or better yet, learn to stop underestimatin’ the women round here! I learnt the hard way never to underestimate a woman, as confusin’ as that species may be.” 

“You make a good point, Arthur.” Hosea chimes as he ambles over. You hadn’t spoken to Hosea much yet but judging by how respected he seemed to be around camp, you’d sensed he was an important figure. 

He certainly seemed to have a fine way with words as you’d overheard him consoling Abigail after one of her’s and John’s many squabbles, something you’d learnt was a regular occurence between them.

“That being said, I’ve got a job for you both. Something up near Valentine, a friend of mine Seamus, got some cousins he wouldn’t mind us robbing. Nothing too big, just requires a bit of stealthiness on your part.” Hosea motioned toward you. 

“I ain’t done much of this sort of thing I’m afraid Mr Matthews, I- are you sure I’m the right person for it?” You question.

“Call me Hosea. And you’ll be fine my dear, if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s scamming folk. I don’t reckon these people could tell their left foot apart from their right, and all you’ve got to do is sneak round into their barn. I know you’re new here but it’s always good to get experience and besides, we’ve got Arthur if anything goes wrong. What do you say?”

You had never done anything like this in your life, aside from the odd unplanned shootout now and then, you weren’t much of an outlaw. Sure, you could handle a gun and you weren’t afraid of getting dirty if it came to but stealing? Robbing folk, taking from them, just like the O’Driscolls had done to you. Was this a life you really wanted to live?

“I-I still ain’t sure I mean, sure I can handle a gun I suppose but… I ain’t never robbed anyone before Hosea…”

“Look Miss, in this world you either rob, or get robbed. The job is simple enough and I ain’t one for walking myself into the face of danger. Well, most of the time I’m not but… that’s beside the point. I know you’re doubting your morals, we all have, hell I still do! But we need money and at the end of the day, cash’s cash and if you can get it without killing anyone? Even better.” Hosea exclaimed, enthusiasm rolling off his tongue.

“I suppose you’re right…” you sigh “But don’t count on me not getting myself killed, as I say I, I’m new to all this.” 

“Oh you’ll be fine, everyone’s gotta start somewhere.” Hosea chuffed, making his way toward his horse with you and Arthur following suit. “Just ask Arthur here. He tried to rob me the first time we met.”

You laughed, hands on your hips. “Oh really? And how did that work out?”

Arthur shook his head playfully as he mounted his horse. “About as well as trying to steal from an experienced conman can go.” 

Hosea chuckled and pulled himself atop his mount, he looked in his early 50s and you could see his body starting to succumb to the weight of age.

“Look at it this way Y/N. If you’ve got more than half a brain, your first job will go a whole lot smoother than Arthur’s.” 

“You folk really are somethin’ else…” you laughed before realising you didn’t have a mount of your own and were still standing by yourself. 

Hosea caught your expression quickly as he said “Ride up with Arthur there, if all goes to plan we should be driving the coach away anyway. And we’ll have to look at getting you a horse, the money we get from this could go toward one.”

Arthur pulls you up behind him with ease, and you’re impressed at how weightless he makes you feel as you position yourself behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling him tense, just as he did before.

“We’ll that’d be mighty kind Hosea, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m not the one stealing the stagecoach.” He responds, a smidge of wittiness on his tongue. 

The three of you set off, your chest pressed against Arthur’s back makes for a rather pleasant ride as he relaxes under your touch eventually.

“So what exactly is the plan here Hosea?” Arthur breaks the silence.

“I’ll go out front, distract them, sales pitch or something similar. You sneak in round the back, take whatever you can find inside while Miss L/N boards the coach, it’ll be in the barn. Once you’re finished, go and find her and the coach and wait for me. If all goes smoothly, we should be out of there in 10 minutes max and, if it doesn’t, well Arthur you’ll know what to do.”

“Yes. Well you make it sound easy.” Arthur replies.

“Just what I was thinking…” You say but it was really only within Arthur’s earshot and you hear him snort a response.

After awhile of riding you finally reach the house. It’s secluded, surrounded by a smattering of trees and rocks and you’ve already located the barn, it’s big and only a few metres from the main settlement. Hosea and Arthur dismount in the nearby trees, Arthur helping you down after him to which you curtsy and say “Thank you kind Sir.” 

He tips his hat forward in response playfully responding, “My lady.” 

You giggle slightly before Hosea hushes you and the three of you crouch down by a nearby rock. “You ready?” Hosea asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be to rob someone, I suppose.” You breathe out, shifting your weight around sporadically. You were nervous, but Arthur’s relaxed demeanour calms you more than you thought would be possible and you can hear him breathing softly next to you, another reminder that this sort of work was menial to him. 

“Let’s go then.” He whispers, before emerging from behind the rock and making his way toward the house. 

“Follow me this way, I’ll go in the house through the back and you follow it round to the barn.” Arthur says, although it’s more of a growl, a noise you’d grown to love and you decide this man is incapable of merely whispering. But you’re not complaining. 

You’d noticed yourself picking up on a lot of his little quirks and tones. Always shaking it off, he’s an outlaw remember, one you’ve known for no more than 3 days but yet you find yourself enamored with the little things he does and says, the way he carries himself, the little habits he has which you are beginning to notice more easily. Not to mention your nervousness whenever he’s within touching distance of you. But this is no time to be questioning your attraction to him, you’re about to break the law, with him as your accomplice. 

You reach the back of the house, he mouths a “good luck” to you and you nod back. You move swiftly, you’re light on your feet as you make your way to the barn, checking in both directions before leaving the shadow of the house. You breathe a sigh of relief once you are atop the stagecoach, grabbing the reins in front of you and shuffling yourself along to accompany what you hope will be Hosea and Arthur in a few minutes. 

Your heart almost jumps out of its chest when Arthur explodes minutes later through the barn’s side door, Hosea not far behind. “We gotta get outta here quick Missy!” He shouts, hoisting himself up beside you while pulling Hosea up next to him. 

You crack the reins on the horse’s flanks and watch as they burst into a manic gallop, the barn doors flying open as they charge through, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you shout encouragement at them, not daring to look behind.

You drive them hard, Arthur laughing out loud as he watches the two angered men curse you from behind the coach as they’re left in dirt, guns blazing. 

“What the hell happened back there you two? I thought this was supposed to be an in and out job!” You said, displeased but still smiling, not letting up on the horses as they galloped hard.

“It was, but clearly bigfoot here wasn’t content with exiting the house  _ silently _ .” Hosea complained, but his tone was friendly. 

“Ain’t my fault those fools keep their fancy plates right by the damn doorway! And we got what we needed, we ain’t dead nor shot so what’s there to complain about?” Arthur retorted, gesturing behind him. 

You turn and stare hard at Arthur.

“What?” He looks genuinely worried about what you’re going to do next before you burst into laughter. 

_ “Bigfoot…”  _ you wheeze, patting his thigh enthusiastically, feeling him instantly tense beneath your hand, he acts like no one’s ever touched him in his life. “It suits you!”

Arthur grunts as you and Hosea share your laughter. 

Eventually you pull the coach to a stop outside a large barn where a greasy haired, rough looking man greets you.

“Hello Seamus... we met your cousins.” Hosea says.

“How did it go?” Seamus asks.

You and Hosea share a look and conceal a smile before he responds “Fine, nice people.”

“Well park that thing in here quickly.” Seamus says, opening the barn doors as you park the coach, all three of you climbing down. 

“Nice work Hosea.” Seamus pulls the barn doors shut, glancing around quickly.

“It was mostly Miss L/N, she’s new but she’ll fit in here just fine I reckon.” Hosea wraps his arm around your shoulder, smiling.

“Come on, I barely did nothin’... and we’ll see about that.” You say but you smile back nonetheless, Hosea has a catching charm. 

“Here,” Seamus offers Hosea a clip of money “and if you find any other coaches need selling, I’ll see what I can offer you for them. But discreet, you know?”

“Of course.” Hosea replies, taking the money and pocketing it.

“Well, goodbye folks.” Seamus closes the barn doors and disappears off round the back, leaving the three of you alone. 

“Well, this isn’t a bad profit I’d say! And for your first time, a job well done.” Hosea splits the money between you. “Hey, why don’t you head into Valentine and see if you can get yourself a horse? It’s not much but you should be able to get something rideable for it.”

“That’d be- well that’d be great Hosea, are you sure?”

“It’s your money Miss, not mine! And you can’t ride with Arthur forever, especially not if you’re coming out on jobs now. I’m sure Arthur wouldn’t mind taking you into town.”

“Sure. As long as you promise not to retell the story of me fallin’ over them plates round the campfire. Never live that down...” He mutters.

“Don’t give me ideas,  _ bigfoot _ .” You smile playfully nudging his arm. 

Hosea looks between the two of you with knowing eyes “Well, I’ll see you two back at camp!”

“Yes, and thank you Hosea, I enjoyed myself.”

He nods and smiles your way before mounting up, leaving you and Arthur alone. 

“This way then Missy.” Arthur mounts, pulling you up after him. 

“That my nickname now?  _ Missy? _ ” You taunt playfully.

Arthur chuckles. “I… guess it is.” You laugh as Joey picks up a gentle canter in the direction of Valentine. Your father often took you here as a girl, you’d eat lunch in the saloon together sometimes after a long day of ranching. It grew to be one of your favourite places to go, despite the rather thick-skulled civilians and the boggy streets. 

“So, Hosea made a thief of you yet?” Arthur breaks the silence as you reach Valentine, slowing Joey with one hand, the other lolling at his side.

“Maybe.” You chime. “I had fun, that’s for sure. Mostly laughin’ at you…” 

Arthur sighed as you giggled, and you were sure he’d rolled his eyes, despite not being able to see his face. 

“Well you can stop laughin’ at me now Miss L/N. Come on, let’s go and see what they’ve got.” Arthur helped you down, your boots sinking into the mud beneath your feet.

After a while of browsing you finally picked out a horse with what money you had. Arthur had offered you extra but you’d declined. You’d yet to pay him back for saving your life, so god forbid he’d offer to buy you an animal. 

You’d picked out a pretty little mare, she was a Morgan with a golden palomino coat and four long white socks that hugged each of her legs like delicate stockings. She had a pink muzzle with a crisp white stripe painted on her head. She looked dainty and sweet but you could see the fire in her eyes, they were a bright blue and burned with passion. You saw yourself in her just a little bit, maybe that’s what drew you to her. 

You led her from the stable before wrapping your arms around her, pressing your cheek against her neck. “Isn’t she beautiful?” You looked to Arthur, eyes glistening.

“Sure,” He replied, you even saw him smile a little. “What’re you namin’ her?”

“Athena.” You responded instantly. “Daddy loved those greek novels, used to read me them to me all the time. Athena was the goddess of courage, if I remember.” You took the reins over her head and started heading toward the saloon.

“Hey, where you goin’ now?” Arthur followed, dismounting his own horse.

“Bar? For a drink?” You replied, turning to face him while walking backward.

“Wh-Now?”

“Sure! Why not? A celebration for… my first time ever robbin’ someone!” You smiled, your eyes sparkling under the evening glow of the sun.

The corner of Arthur’s mouth rose into a grin as he shook his head, motioning with both hands toward the saloon. “Hosea’s charms workin’ to well on you, Missy.”

“Not just Hosea, you’ve got your own... endearing peculiarities Mr Morgan.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” He chuckles as you reach the entrance of the saloon “Now, we havin’ a drink or what?”


	5. Informal Refreshments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night spent drinking with Arthur in the saloon. He starts to open up to you, you're beginning to see what sort of a man he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading everyone <3 I hope you enjoy this one! And we are getting to the smut, I promise ;)

Arthur pushed through the saloon doors, holding them open for you before stepping in himself. You smiled your thanks as you made your way toward the bar. The sun was beginning to set and it spilled through the windows of the saloon, illuminating the clumps of people milling around. Mostly all men, a smattering of women here and there who looked a lot like working girls to you, all trying their charm on the least-threatening looking people. The men were laughing, or playing poker. It was a nice atmosphere, everyone seemed to be having a good enough time and the place was reasonably noisy. 

You rested your hands on the bar, Arthur reaching your side not long after. “What’ll it be folks?” The bartender asked, cloth in hand as he dried an empty glass.

“Two whiskeys’, please.” You say, laying down two coins on the countertop.

“You  _ trying _ to get me piss drunk?” Arthur laughs, leaning forward over the bar as he necks his shot with you.

“Oh lighten up Arthur, s’just a drink.” You smile playfully. “But yea, maybe! Hardly seen you smile since I met you, thought this might help.”

“Alright, alright… As long as you ain’t planning on robbin’ me or somethin’ later.” 

“Might, might not. I’ll see how it goes.” You reply, eyes still twinkling and smile still there as you motion for another round. And then another.

Hours later and over a dozen shots each, you’re both really quite inebriated. 

“Hey, Mister, two more!” Arthur slams his coins down onto the bar a little to hard and winces with pain, much to your amusement. You both down the shots and Arthur laughs heartily as you scrunch your eyes and stick your tongue out as the liquid burns your throat. 

You cough and rub your eyes “Was, was never much of a whisky girl, me.” You slur, smiling as you pat your chest. “Always preferred beer, Thomas, he got me drinkin’ it a lot. Gahh I miss that silly, silly man… How about you Arthur, you have a sweetheart?” You look to him, your eyelids fluttering as the alcohol coarsed through you. 

He laughs as he returns your gaze. He’d relaxed a hell of a lot as the night had gone on, smiling and laughing with you as though you were old friends re-acquainted. “Nahhh… not anymore. I… I’m a fool and well, she could see it!” 

You push him gently with your hand, “Oh shut up, that’s  _ nonsense.  _ I’ve met my fair old share of fools and you ain’t come close to makin’ the list. Why you always gotta treat yourself so badly? You’s a  _ fine  _ man from what I know.”

You can tell Arthur is smiling, you could even hear him laugh softly under his breath as he scratches the nape of his neck. “Aww, is I makin’ you  _ blush _ , Mr Morgan?”

He smiles as turns to face you and shakes his head. “How is it I’ve known you less than a week and I’m already convinced you’re gonna be the death o’ me woman…”

You giggle, “And I ain’t even been under you yet.” Part of you felt you’d regret these words in the morning, but alcohol was your best friend tonight and it shoved all your inner confidence straight out of your mouth with no regard for the logical side of your brain which had been buried many hours ago.

Arthur’s eyes flicker with something primal, lustful even, for just a second before they simmer. Smiling and shaking his head again, taking yet another shot. “You really are somethin’ else, Missy.”

You prowled into his ear playfully, imitating the noise of a cat before you laughed and dragged him into the middle of the saloon, both of you stumbling, where a line of men were can-canning and before you knew it, you found yourself in the middle of them.

Arms around Arthur’s waist and a stranger’s as you danced and shouted together loudly, your vision blurred and your chest sore from laughing as eventually the two of you stumbled out of the saloon together. You were both wheezing as you slumped to the floor, holding onto each other for support. 

“Well I’ve got to be honest Y/N, this weren’t the night I was expectin’ when I left this morning. But I damn well ain’t complaining, that was fun.” Arthur says, his hands resting on his thighs as he smiles, a genuine, heart-warming smile that christens your stomach with butterflies.

“It sure as hell was! I know you ain’t as mean and tough as you look, you just gotta loosen up now and then Arthurrr, let your hair down!” You slurred, grabbing the hat from his head and placing it on your own, raising your fits and scowling in an impersantion of him which he laughed at heartily, keeping your gaze.

“Suits you.” He says smirking, his blue eyes glistening as he looks you over.

You smile back as you take his hat from your head, your breathing hitching as you lean over and place it back on him, your eyes locked and you realise you’re just inches away, if you press in just a little bit closer your lips would be touching. And that suddenly becomes the focus of your mind, hand sliding down from his hat to his cheek before a man comes tumbling through the saloon doors, spraying vomit all over his shoes and the floor. 

Arthur scowls in his direction. “Well we best be headin’ back, everyone’ll be wondering where we’ve gone…” It’s clear he’s frustrated but he heaves himself up, still unstable on his feet as he offers you a hand.

You take his hand as he pulls you to your feet, swaying about yourself as you grab the side of the wall beside you. Arthur groans, “I can already feel tomorrow’s headache…”

“You wanna know the best cure for a hangover? More drink, because you can’t get a hangover if you’s still drunk.” You say, already stumbling down the steps of the deck and toward your horse.

“Well I ain’t sure how much I’m gonna fancy another shot of whisky when I wake up tomorrow… If I do wake up.”

You turn around and roll your eyes at him, “Don’t tell me a  _ little lady _ like myself is handlin’ her alcohol better than a  _ big _ ,  _ rugged  _ outlaw like you. Mr Morgan if you can’t cope with a few shots of-... wait... just a second, hold that thought-” You say before an overpowering wave of nausea comes over you and you turn yourself sideways, vomiting all over the floor, spitting and groaning as you clutch your stomach.

You hear Arthur burst into laughter, walking down the steps toward you before he says “You alright?”

“Just- dandy, thank you.” Wiping your mouth with your sleeve you pull yourself atop Athena, and watch with amusement as Arthur tries and fails several times to mount his own horse, eventually pulling him alongside the saloon deck for leverage. 

Once you’re both seated, just about, you begin the journey home, neither of you daring to go any faster than a walk as you laugh and joke the way back. You even sing together a little bit, although it’s more of a slurred, half-shouted chorus of noise than melodic music but you both enjoy it nonetheless. 

You reach camp in the very early hours of the morning, few people are awake and the place is quiet. “Shhhh!” You slur, pushing into Arthur as you stumble your way toward your tent, trying your best not to wake the girls who were sleeping.

“No, you shhh!” Arthur retorts, both of you stifling laughter. 

You slump down onto your bed roll, moaning as your head hits the ground and watch as Arthur haphazardly makes his way toward his cot. You smile as you watch him collapse onto it, and you’re sure he’s snoring before he even lays down. Sleep finds you instantly, closing your eyes and resting your hands over your chest as a welcome darkness consumes you.

You awake not much later, rubbing your eyes and looking around you notice the girls are still asleep and a few other camp members are milling about, some just starting to stir. You make your way toward Pearson’s wagon and pour yourself a cup of coffee, swirls of steam emitting from it as you press the cup to your mouth, sipping it slowly. Abigail joins you not long after, smiling at you before pouring herself a cup.

“Morning.” You smile.

“Good mornin’. You have fun last night?” Abigail seems kind enough, although you can tell that she isn’t one to sugar coat or play things down. She seems an honest woman, straight to the point and truthful but with a motherly tone. 

“I’d say yes but I can’t much remember what happened… I, think I did at least.”

“Well it sounded like you two had a great time, came back here laughing and jokin’ and we could hear your singing a mile away.” Abigail laughed softly, sipping her coffee.

“Oh Jesus, I imagine we’ve made a fool of ourselves in town as well if that’s the case.” You say, your cheeks blushing just a little bit.

“Well it’s nice to see Arthur enjoying himself, hardly ever see a smile on that man’s face. You seem to get along well.”

You smile. “I guess we do… I mean we barely know each other but, he’s... he’s been good to me. All of you folks have, more than I can thank you for. And I don’t know what I’d be doin’ now if he hadn't found me that night. Dead most likely.” 

“Well as long as you can pull your weight, which I’m sure you can, you’ll have a place to stay and folks lookin’ out for you. John and I… well- we, we ain’t on the best of terms right now but everyone here gets along just fine, for the most part. Last few months have been hard but we’re pulling through, for now at least.” Abigail takes a sip of her coffee, one hand resting on her hip.

“Thank you, Abigail, I… I appreciate that.”

  
  
  
  


After finishing your coffee and conversation with Abigail you make your way back over to your tent, smoothing out your bedroll and combing through your hair best you can with your fingers. You decide to check on Arthur and find him still sleeping. He’s still fully clothed except his hat which has been discarded on the floor. He’s lying on his side, one arm lolling off the edge of his cot, his mouth half open as he snores softly, his eyelids fluttering every now and then. 

He looks hopelessly…  _ handsome _ . You think, staring at him for longer than would be considered appropriate. With each passing day, you find yourself becoming more and more  attracted to him. Not just the way he looks but the little awkward, quirky things he does that make your insides flutter. You don’t know how healthy it is to feel this way about someone you’ve known for less than a week but you aren’t prepared to question it. 

Shaking yourself from your daze you scurry off to begin helping the girls with whatever boredom-inducing tasks Miss Grimshaw has got lined up for the day.

The next few weeks are quiet and you begin to speak more and more with your camp members. Charles takes you hunting a lot, you enjoy his company greatly. He doesn’t speak all that much but the silence between you is enjoyable, merely his presence is enough to coax you into a warm state of relaxation. And when you do speak, it’s meaningful small talk. He’s an exceptional listener, but when he does tell stories of his own they’re always incredibly intriguing and you love hearing them.

You’re rather keen on Sean, and he reciprocates that keenness maybe a little too eagerly. Always wanting to sit next to you around the fire, sharing his alcohol and abundance of stories with you nightly. He’s charming, even if he is a bit of a braggart but you enjoy his company. 

Javier often plays his guitar for you, saving certain tunes and melodies just for you and it’s really rather endearing. You love hearing him play at night when you’re not trapped next to Sean or Uncle having another pastime memory being shoved down your throat by one of them.

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen have all welcomed you like a sister. You’re always giggling and talking with them, the girlfriends you never had growing up. 

Abigail and Jack have also become particularly close friends, you often take Jack out riding with you. You’ll stop to search for herbs with him and have even gone fishing a handful of times together although you sense fishing is not a hobby he’d ever like to pursue with age. You become one of Abigail’s preferred listeners for all of her discrepancies with John, and you try and offer her the best advice you can which she eats up thankfully. You sense the other girls are probably rather sick of hearing about their quarrels by now, but you don’t mind.

Micha is the only camp member you have  _ thoroughly _ disliked. His arrogance and slimey attitude do not sit well with you and it takes every ounce of self restraint you’ve got not to spit in his face every time he comes your way and you, amongst a posse of other camp members cannot see what Dutch sees in him. 

You’ve become quite a camp favourite, Dutch likes your spirit and vigour among other things and it’s not long before you’re being invited out on proper big jobs with the men. 

But there’s one person who you haven’t spoken to all that much. Arthur. Ever since that night in Valentine, he’s been reserved and distant. Never unfriendly, but his greetings are blunt and he always seems to be going somewhere when you’re around. It hurts you, more than you’d ever admit, even to yourself. You can’t remember doing anything that may have caused him to act this way, even when you were with him that night but your mind creates scene after scene of awkward encounters with him, until you just can’t take it anymore. You’d be damned if you didn’t find a reason for his ignorance, so that’s exactly what you’re going to do.   
  



	6. That Damned Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain. Your lover and biggest enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay everyone, I've been so busy. I hope you enjoy this one <3

_ There’s something about that girl. Something I just cannot seem to let go. She’ll be just like Mary, another beautiful woman I’ll never be good enough for. Don’t make a fool of yourself again Morgan.  _

“Arthur!” You said, walking behind his tent. “Arthur I- oh shit, er, sorry I didn’t know you were…” You turn away embarrassed, hands crossed around your midriff. He was shirtless, union suit rolled down to reveal his chest, a wash cloth in one hand as he scrubbed himself with the other. You felt your cheeks redden at what you’d just seen as he chuckles slightly under his breath. 

“S’alright. What’s up?” You turn around to face him, trying your best to keep eye contact fear your eyes spend to long lingering on his body. He was a brawny build, broad shoulders and hair sporadically spread across his chest. The outline of his muscles just peeked through from under his skin, a lifetime of manual labour had left him toned and muscular. If “manly” had a picture definition, he would be it. 

You clear your throat, giving him a short smile, nervous that there was nowhere for you to hide your reddened cheeks as he continued to wash himself, skin glistening in the early morning sun that had just started to settle. “I, um… I was wondering if you could help me? There’s this huge bear I’ve been tracking. He’s up in the mountains just north of here and well, I don’t much fancy going alone.” You laugh, pulling your hair onto one side of your neck and stroking through it.

Arthur looked away and you could see him processing your request, he furrowed his brows just a little and huffed just slightly through his nose, scratching the nape of his neck. “Wouldn’t Charles be a better man for the job? I mean I ain’t much of a hunter…” 

“Charles is out, said he’d be gone a few days. I’d argue you  _ are _ a good hunter but if you don’t want to come I can always wait until he gets back.”

“No it’s not that it’s just…”

“Have I done something to offend you, Mr Morgan?” You query, hands crossed defensively across your chest as you look at him.

“What? No, no of course you haven’t-“

“Because it seems to me like ever since that night in Valentine you’ve been doing your utmost to avoid me and I’m sorry if I… did anything inappropriate, as you can probably remember we were both very drunk. But at least tell me what’s happening so I can fix it, or try to, I…I don’t know… I’ve missed spending time with you Arthur.” 

Arthur looks at you dumbfounded for a minute, hands on his hips as he sighs. “No, you’re… you’re right. You ain’t offended me, hell you done the opposite but it’s just, well things are… complicated and I… well I don’t want someone like you getting’ mixed up with… someone like me.” He suddenly looks vulnerable, standing there in all his strength and stature and his words cut you deep. 

You scoff, as if you didn’t hear him properly, looking at him intently with beady eyes. “Well what’s that s’posed to mean..?”

He’s doing it again, that growl, that comes from deep within his throat as he looks at you. “I’m a killer, Y/N. I’ve hurt folks, good, innocent folks and I know you can hold your own, I don’t doubt that for a second but… me, my life it... it ain’t right. And I’d be damned if I dragged you down into it all with me.” And despite the content of his dialogue, your muscles still tightened at his gravelly tone.

“So that’s what this is about? You don’t want to  _ condemn _ me to this life? I know what you are Arthur, I know the things this gang does to survive and I’m still here ain’t I? I’ll admit, it’s new to me and there’s still things I’m tryna’ get my head ‘round but I could’ve up-and-left long ago if I’d wanted to. None of you is bad people, and  _ you _ ? You could’ve left me to die on that road but you didn’t. You saved my life, a stranger you didn’t know and for what? I don’t care what you say, you ain’t the monster you paint yourself to be. Now Christ, you coming to track this bear with me or what? The fucker will have left if we take any damn longer.” 

You can practically see the cogs churning in Arthur’s head as he processes what you’ve told him, his mouth is slightly open and his blue eyes twinkle as he’s deep in thought before he shakes his head smiling, “Sure. Let’s go hunt that bear Missy.” He motions to the horses and you smile before turning around and making your way over to Athena.

You bring a springfield, you know you’ll need something powerful for hunting a bear this big. You make sure to pack all the necessities as well, canned food, extra ammo and of course your bedroll and a change of clothes. You’d picked up a good amount of money helping out with small tasks like robbing stagecoaches with Bill and Lenny, and Hosea often took you out scouting for lucrative breeds of horse which could be sold. You were beginning to understand why this sort of lifestyle could be so appealing. The adrenaline rush from robbing someone was like nothing you’d ever felt before, and the high from completing a job successfully was amazing. 

In a matter of months your life had totally changed, but a part of you felt as though you’d been destined to fall in with these people your whole life. But sometimes at night you’d lay awake considering your choices. Rich or not, you were still stealing from innocent people, but Dutch explained it in such a way that made you feel as though  _ they _ were the criminals. Taking from the poor themselves, inheriting their fortunes and leaving the classes below them to rot, you almost felt it was your duty to take from them, so others could have a chance at the life they’d had handed to them.

You weren’t planning on making it a two day trip but it’s always best to go prepared you think. You pull your hair best you can into a loose ponytail at the nape of your neck, but pieces of hair fall forward, framing your face beautifully. 

You’d never thought much about your looks. Ranch work didn’t call for the most expensive nor formal attire and it had always been wake up and go, practicality over appearance. You’d always garnered a lot of attention from men however, but you’d put this down to them being especially desperate. But being surrounded by other women did make you reconsider your own clothing choices and you became more aware of how you looked, always making sure you were clean and your hair was as tamed as possible.

Arthur finishes up soon after and makes his way toward you and Athena. He’s wearing a white dress shirt with a creamy beige coloured jacket over the top, murky dark brown trousers with sleek boots and of course his usual array of bandoliers and gun belts. “What gun you takin’?”

“Springfield.”

“Alright good, you got enough ammo?” 

“Arthur, I ain’t stupid, of course I have.” You roll your eyes, smiling.

He puts his hands up in a mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright, forgive me if I don’t much fancy gettin’ mauled by a bear in this lifetime.” 

He pulls himself atop Joey and the two of you set out. The ride should be about an hour and it’s mostly all off road, mainly smaller side tracks that are very scenic. Even if you don’t make it back with the bear, you’re looking forward to spending one on one time with Arthur and somehow you sense he reciprocates that feeling. 

“So, you been havin’ a good time learnin’ the ways of an  _ outlaw _ then?” Arthur teases, the two of you riding side by side at a gentle canter.

You raise your eyebrows at him disapprovingly, but even he could see the playful spark in your eye. “Yes, actually. It’s been fun, never thought I’d say it but I’ve enjoyed this past month,  _ outlaws _ are not how I would have imagined them. Excluding Colm of course.” You mutter the last part through gritted teeth. 

“Yea, well he’s more of a cold-blooded killer than an outlaw, he ain’t got no motive behind his actions, he just kills and robs as and when he feels like it. That’s one reason him and Dutch never seen eye to eye. That and Anabelle, of course.”

“What ever happened with that anyways..?”

“Anabelle? Dutch was obsessed with that woman. If I ever seen true love, they had it. Dutch killed Colm’s brother many, many years ago, it was all over a job gone wrong. He gave Dutch a false lead and well, things escalated quickly. Colm and Dutch were...  _ friends _ , sometime ago, or business partners rather. But I never liked him, nor did Hosea. Anyways, Colm decided to get his revenge by killing Anabelle, they ambushed her while she was out ridin’ and that’s how this whole feud started.”

“Poor Dutch, I can see why he’d hate him so much… not that I don’t have good reason after what they did to me but… that must’ve hurt.”

“What… did they do to you exactly? If, you don’t mind me askin’.” You wouldn’t be inclined to answer such a question if it came from anyone else’s mouth, but Arthur had a way of speaking that you were sure could calm even the most far-gone maniac. His brows furrowed and eyes soft under the brim of his hat as he looked at you, you felt a sudden desire to spill all your emotions to him.

“The kinda things nasty fellas do a girl when she’s out alone in the woods with ‘em helpless.”

“I’m… real sorry. I wish I could’ve found you sooner.” 

“Well, what’s done is done. And I can’t be ungrateful for you savin’ my life, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for that Arthur.” 

“You don’t have to repay me for anythin’ Missy, like I said when I found you, leavin’ you there to die weren’t an option. And I think you’re doin’ a fine job around camp, helpin’ as you are and bringing in money on jobs. Dutch’s chuffed with you, that’s for sure.” He laughs.

“I’m glad. Well, thank you nonetheless, you know I’ll always be willing if you need a favour.” 

He nods his head at you and smiles. “You wanna gallop?” He asks after a while of riding at a loping canter. “Joey’s gettin’ all worked up here, wants to stretch his legs I reckon.”

“Why you askin’ my permission for? ‘Course we can gallop!” You laugh, already digging your heels into Athena’s sides, leaving Arthur and his near-rearing horse behind. 

He quickly catches up however and you race, your horses neck and neck. Athena can certainly move despite being almost half of Joey’s size, both animal’s foaming at the bit and snorting with excitement. You glance over at Arthur and see a daze of pure delight captured in his eyes and for a man who’s practically grown up on horseback or with a gun in his hand, you find it endearing how excited a good gallop can get him. 

Your own excitement is also evident. You hadn’t let Athena go this freely since you’d got her with Arthur those few weeks ago and the wind tearing through your hair and whipping past your face felt incredible, the pounding of hooves on worn ground beneath you was like music to your ears as you laughed out loud, cheering at your little morgan to  _ run _ . Feeling this free,  this alive, was simply blissful. Horses had always had a place within your heart and you couldn’t imagine a life where this feeling didn’t exist.

After a few minutes of hard galloping, you feel the horses begin to labour and you both pull them into a walk, relaxing your reins and letting them stretch their necks as you laugh. 

“Wow, she can really move. More of a fighter than she looks. Bit like her owner I ‘spose.” Arthur comments, gesturing toward your panting horse, smirk on his face.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr Morgan. And Joey ain’t so bad himself. Are you boy?” The animal snorts, as if in response to you, earning a chesty laugh from his rider.   


The rest of the ride into the mountains is very enjoyable, you realise how much you’ve missed Arthur’s company, even after only a few weeks. When you eventually make it to the hunting spot you had in mind, it was noon and a chilly breeze had settled in the air, the skies had greyed over and the weather was generally looking miserable. 

“These skies don’t look good…” Arthur comments, pulling his gun from the saddle of his horse. 

“You’re right… looks like a storm’s on the way. Even more of a reason for us to get on and hunt this bastard I suppose.” You smile, loading your own gun as you make your way past Arthur into the trees.

“So we just gonna head out here and hope we see him before he sees us, or what?”

You turn around and roll your eyes, “No, of course not ya idiot. I’ve got bait…”

You find a perfect spot, a secluded area of woodland where the trees are sparse. You set down your bait, rubbing your hands on your jeans as you stand back up. “Right, I’ll wait here, you over there. I’ll take the shot, but if things go haywire, I’m countin’ on you to shoot this fella.”

Arthur chuckles, “Well shootin’s what I do best, but I can’t promise anythin’... Let’s hope he ain’t got a brain the size of his body…”

“It’ll be fine, now come on…” You motion toward the bush Arthur is supposed to be waiting in as you take position yourself.

You’ve only been waiting for 20 minutes or so when the bear decides to show. He’s  _ huge _ . To put it lightly, and you suddenly draw a little sheepish with your gun, hands trembling as you take aim. You breathe in and out, breath uneasy. On empty lungs you pull the trigger and luckily the bear goes down easy. A tiny bullet between the eyes is all it takes to bring down  such a magnificently big animal and it’s upsetting really, how quickly life can be cut short. You breathe a sigh of relief and look over at Arthur, he gives you an impressed nod as the two of you emerge.

“You weren’t jokin’ when you said he was big.  _ Christ… _ ” Arthur comments as looks down at the grizzly beneath his feet. “Should be careful tracking things this big alone though, could’ve had you out here alone and no one would’ve been any the wiser.” There’s a certain suggestiveness to his tone and you desperately want to tell him  _ why _ you’d been out here tracking this bear alone, and the precise reason being that you’d needed a good excuse to get Arthur away from camp, but you refrain. 

You lock gaze for a second, noticing the shine in his eyes, the way he looks at you like you’re the only person alive, so intent but full of softness. “Well maybe you’re right, but he’s dead now and I ain’t plannin’ on chasin’ anymore bears. For now.” You laugh.

Arthur sighs unmaliciousily and you can see the corners of his lips tugged into a little smile beneath the brim of his hat as he begins helping you skin the bear. 

Once you’re finished he lugs the pelt over Joey’s rump and you both mount up, watching him roll his shoulders as he pats his horse’s neck, cooing to him gently.

Then the rain starts, drizzling at first, the raindrops seeping into your jeans and trickling down your saddle before the storm  _ really _ sets it.

You’d only been travelling for 10, maybe 20 minutes but it had started and was merciless, showing no sign of letting up as the rain pelts against your back with such force you’re sure it’ll leave bruises. Both you and Arthur use your arm to try and shield your eyes best you can but the rain is fierce, blinding you as your horses struggle to trudge through the boggy grass underfoot. 

“ _ Shit! _ ” You hear Arthur shout before a huge fork of lightning strikes the ground in the distance, and you notice Joey has began pacing on all fours, eyes wild as he continuously rears his head, throwing the bit around in his mouth as Arthur tries his best to keep his animal’s feet on the ground. 

“ _ This way! I know a place we can stop!”  _ You shout back, pulling Athena off the main track and through the woods toward a cabin. You remember it from your childhood, your father had taken you here many when you were a little girl, he’d found it out hunting and it had been abandoned for years, you prayed it still was as you pushed Athena through the shrubbery. 

To your relief the cabin stands untouched, or so you can see from the outside. It’s not very homely, windows boarded up with a crumbling porch and a door that clearly has not been opened for many years but it will do. 

You dismount and loop your stirrups over the horn of your saddle so they won’t bang into Athena’s sides as the wind rackets around you and watch as Arthur copies you, rubbing his hand across Joey’s neck as he leads him toward the cabin. 

“We’ll have to leave the horses outside but there’s trees round the back where they can stand for now.” You say, trying your best to see through your squinted eyes.

You tether Athena to a tree and pat her, reassuring her as best you can, although she doesn’t seem all that fazed by the storm, Arthur tethering Joey who’s calmed down slightly now he’s next to Athena and under the shelter of the trees.

You make your way with Arthur inside the cabin, he has to help you enter by quite forcefully kicking in the door, but it still works when you go to close it and for now you’re dry and sheltered from the storm. 


	7. Firstly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're not sure how spending the evening in a secluded cabin, soaking wet, with Arthur will go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning! ;) Also a big thank you to you for reading and also to everyone who leaves kind comments and kudos - it seriously makes my day and I appreciate every piece of support, no matter how small! <3

“Well. Shit.” You comment, taking off your dripping wet coat and boots. Your shirt and jeans are equally as wet but you don’t know how appropriate it would be to strip down to just your chemise. Especially considering how small the cabin is.

There’s a cot in one corner, bearing just a bed roll with no sheets as well as a fireplace in the far left, which Arthur is already eyeing up just as much as you are. The place is exactly as you remember it all those years ago and you start to wonder if you and your father were the last people it had seen before now. It’s not dirty, albeit a bit dusty but you’re happy to stay here until the storm dies off, when that will be is another thought however. 

“Well at least we’s outta that storm. How’d you know about this place?” Arthur asks, removing his coat, revealing his soaking wet white dress shirt that’s hugging his chest quite intently. You stop yourself staring before he has a chance to say anything.

“Oh-um… my father used to take me here. Usually after we’d been hunting, we’d spend the night here sometimes. Was lucky I remembered about it, doubt we would’ve made it back in a storm like that.”

Your own shirt was as equally as wet, and you’d regretted also wearing a white blouse as it was now totally see through. You shivered viciously as you wrapped your arms around your torso, making your way toward the fireplace. 

Arthur looked at you as you went, and you’re sure you saw him glance over your figure. “I’ll try and get a fire goin’, you look freezing.” Arthur says as he strikes a match best he can on the underside of his boot, rummaging around in his satchel for some scrap paper to burn. 

It doesn’t take long until the fire is big enough to provide some warmth and you huddle in next to it, still shivering with force as you wring out your hair which has now started to dry in loose curls. Your eyes are lit by the glow of the fire and it illuminates your porcelain skin, your cheeks rosy with the heat and your lips pressed shut as you shake. 

Arthur looks at you for a little while before sitting down next to you, taking out a bottle of whisky. “I’d offer you a jacket but…” he laughs “well… This should warm you up a little anyways…” he offers you a swig from the bottle which you take and nod at, smiling. 

“Never took you for a gentleman, Mr Morgan.” You tease as you pass the bottle back his way. 

He chuckles as he scratches the nape of his neck, “Neither did I.” 

You giggle and smile at him softly, still shaking as you inspect the place further. Then something catches your eye, a book in the far side corner of the room. You get up and walk  over to it, your heart beating as you realise exactly what it is. “ _ Oh my god… _ ” You whisper, picking it up and holding it in your hands. 

It was your journal. You’d lost it years ago when you were a young girl, and had cried for days over it. Your father had searched everywhere with you around the ranch but you could never find it. Eventually he’d bought you another one, but you’d always pined for the original. It was made from a beautiful blue leather with gold paint formed into pretty swirls and patterns over the cover. 

“What is it?” Arthur queries after a moment, turning to face you, hair wet and tangled where he’d been ruffling through it with his hands. He stands up and walks over to you when you don’t respond, standing in front of you as he looks at the journal in your hands. Opening the book with trembling hands, partly from the cold and your nervousness, you choked back a sob as you read its contents. 

“My old journal…” you whispered as you turned through the pages. “I lost it when I was a little girl, god we searched so hard for this… I kept daddy up all night begging him to try and find it for me…” 

You flipped to the most recent page. Reading it with tearful eyes, hand over your mouth.

_ I had the best ever time today with daddy. He took me hunting for this huge big deer, it had massive antlers and everything. Oh or I think he said it was called a “buck”. But it was so pretty and I didn’t want to kill it but daddy said it was ok because it was to feed us. He helped me shoot the gun, it was scary but he says one day I’ll be able to use it all by myself just like he does. We are sleeping in the special cabin tonight, and tomorrow we will start the journey back. I can’t wait for the long ride, I love riding Rocco, he is the best pony ever and I’m so happy he is mine. I bet we will be together forever. _

You close the book abruptly. Feelings tears roll down your face as you tried your best to stifle your sobs. When the O’Driscolls first took you, you’d not stopped crying for weeks about your father. 

They’d threatened to kill you if you didn’t stop, but nothing could prevent the overwhelming grief that had rattled your body after the loss of your father. Those emotions had been bottled up, pushed down by everything that had happened until now. 

Seeing your scrawny little handwriting on those worn pages, the innocence of your words brought back all the trauma from the night your father was shot in front of you. You were so helpless then, screaming as they tore you from his grasp, his last words being “ _ I love you Y/N. _ ” Before the bone-chilling sound of a gunshot pierced your ears and he went limp before your eyes. You’d felt as though you’d been shot yourself, you were certain your heart didn’t beat for minutes as you were dragged from your burning house, still too shocked to utter a single word. 

He’d been your protector all those years, taught you everything, raised you from a little baby, showed you how to shoot a gun, taught you how to read and write, how to skin animals, how to ride a horse and everything in between. And you’d let him die.   


You were so overcome with a sudden wave of paralysing grief, you hadn’t realised Arthur had wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head against his chest as he spoke softly in your ear. You wrap your arms around him, dropping the journal as you muffle your cries against him, feeling his hand caress your back.

You let your breathing steady as you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. “Sorry…” You whisper, pulling your head from his chest but your arms were still wrapped around each other as you look at him, tufts of your wavy hair falling across your face.

“There ain’t nothing to be sorry for darlin’...” He speaks in a tone you’d never heard before. It was so purely gentle, not a hint of malice on his tongue as he looks at you. His messy hair sticking up in all directions as his blue eyes glisten, mouth pulled into a gentle smile. God he was handsome. He looked so appealing like this, he hadn’t shaved in a few days and the stubble of a beard was beginning to form. 

You notice more things about him, even by the dim glow of the fire. You see the little dimple at the end of his nose, the small cut on his lip and the faint scaring where the stubble wouldn’t grow. Everything you notice only grows your attraction toward him as he looks at you, more intently now, your eyes scanning over his lips as he returns your gaze. You suddenly become hyper aware of how close the two of you are, your hips touching as you swallow thickly, feeling the silence around you. 

_Fuck it._ You think as you press your lips against his, he tastes like whisky and cigarette smoke and you’re sure you’ve never tasted anything better. He goes rigid at first, hands tensing around you before he relaxes. You melt under his touch as he kisses you back, his hands moving to hold your waist. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this and you guessed the same for Arthur, judging by how hungrily he palms at your hips, one hand roaming to the nape of your neck, holding your head as he pulls away, his breath hot on your face, noses almost touching.

“Sorry… I…” he growls, and his tone alone was enough to send spikes of heat to your core, his voice so gravelly and lustful as he looks at you wantonly. You look back at him, your heart beating so fast against his chest you’re certain he can feel it. He takes your hands from his waist and holds them in his own, his gaze leaving yours as he looks down, he’s thinking, processing something. He runs his fingers over your knuckles, and you notice the difference in size between your own hand and his, seeing how small yours look in his grasp.

“What’s wrong..?” You whisper.

“Nothin’… it’s just…” You let your hands slip from his grasp as his eyes shoot back up to yours, still pooling with desire but masked by a look of heavy concern, his brows slightly furrowed. “Are you sure ‘bout this…” His voice coarse and breathy as he looks at you, making your insides squirm.

“Arthur, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want this…” You say as you take his hands and place them on your hips again. He lets out a shaky breath as you kiss him, more passionately this time, his lips soft and needy against your own but you could tell how much he was trying to restrain himself. You push your body up against him and you can feel how hard he is already as you grind your hips into his, eliciting a hushed groan from his mouth which you swoon over, rocking your hips even harder against him.

You step back on light feet and take off your shirt, not like it offered much cover being white and soaking wet however, to reveal your black chemise underneath. Holding eye contact with him the entire time, merely the look he gave you was enough to make your insides flip, his eyes were lidded with such lust and his mouth slightly agape as you approach him, smiling softly.

You bring your lips to his, he’s really struggling to contain himself now, especially when you reach down and feel along his clothed erection, his trousers straining against him. He lets out another breathy groan against your lips which intensifies the throbbing between your legs, aching for his touch as you start to undo his trousers, not letting your lips leave his.

As if he knew what you were thinking, he reciprocates the action, moving his calloused hand down into your underwear, brushing over your sensitive bundle of nerves as he begins to work his index finger around you, clearly enjoying how much you begin to squirm.

“Christ, girl…” you can hear the arousal in his voice and it’s driving you insane, that deep, guttural growl and it takes most of your self control not to collapse into his arms there and then.

“Arthur… speak to me like that again…” you plead, your own hands leaving him for a moment, reaching up toward his shoulders as he touches you.

“Been thinking ‘bout doing this for awhile.” He growls into your ear again, just like before and you whimper against him, holding onto his shoulders for support.

“Really?” You whisper. “Me too.”

He smiles fondly into your lips, clearly ecstatic at the thought of someone wanting him this badly, his fingers touching you rather erratically, clearly not able to focus on two things at once.

You smile back against him, that fact becoming quite endearing as you return your hand to his length, stroking him in time with his shaky breathing, your other hand clenching his damp tufts of hair as he touches you, and you can feel yourself getting closer as you muffle your moans against his chest.

Arthur’s looking at you now, his blue eyes deep and cloudy in the dim light of the cabin, lit only by your lanterns. You can tell he’s also close, judging by how much his hands are shaking against your skin, and how he’s panting needly into your ear. Seeing him this aroused by you is what pushes you over the edge - your bodywrithing around his hand as you squirm, and you’re suddenly very grateful for the cabin’s setting as you aren’t very good at concealing your sounds of ecstasy.

It isn’t long until you realise Arthur had shared that feeling with you and you notice the mess you’d both made, but not before he’d wrapped his arms around you and pulled your head against his chest. It reminded you of the time you’d met out in the grizzlies, the rain pelting onto your back and the wind thrashing the trees around you. But all you had remembered was Arthur, shielding you from the elements, feeling his warmth against your back, his hand on your shoulder, his gravelly voice as he comforted you and you wanted nothing more than for this feeling to be eternal.

By the time both of you had cleared up, the murky sky had broken into a river of blue, embellished with a smattering of perky white clouds. You pull on your blouse, it was still damp but you didn’t care, you were still too caught up on the events of the last hour. You and Arthur gather the rest of your things, making sure you to pack your journal. “Well Mr Morgan, we should probably start heading back… they’ll be wondering where we’ve got too.” You smile as Arthur pushes his hat atop his mess of damp tangled hair, and he returns a crooked smirk, one that reaches his eyes.

You make your way toward the door which Arthur kicks open as gentlemanly as possible. “My lady.” He outstretches his arm for you smiling, and you giggle.

“Thank you _Sir_.” You respond, taking his arm as he walks you down the leaning porch of the cabin.

“You make a habit of callin’ me that and we might have to visit this cabin more often Missy.” 

“_Arthur_!” You tease, pushing him playfully. But you were fond of his idea and rather liked his newfound playful nature.

He laughs, such a simple yet complex sound that sets your chest on fire.

The ride back was blissfull. The golden hue of the sun peeked through the thickets and trees, each stride of your mare allowing the rays of soft yellow to christen you, twinkling off the shine of her tack as you moved.

The storm had left the grass dewy and soft underfoot so the two of you were limited to a gentle trot, but neither of you minded in the slightest. Arthur had an air of happiness about him. You noticed the hint of a smile tugging at his lips and how his eyes sparkled every time they met your own. You were starting to wonder how you had lived so long without this man in your life.

Those blue eyes, that could calm like fresh water on an open wound but could so easily shoot glares to make one’s blood run cold.

His hands, so worn and calloused were the ones that touched you with such tenderness and care. Every part of him, you had began to realise, was not simply as it looks.

Every line and scar on his face has a story. He presents himself as a monster, but you’re blinded by this side of him now.

How overwhelmed he was by your advances, his ecstasy when _you_ wanted _more_.

He isn’t the ruthless outlaw he masquerades himself as, the frightening killer he wants people to see, you decide. His purest and most innocent natures have been smothered by ideals, and when you’re laughing into his gaze, his lips pulled quirkily sideways, you know then that you must stand by this man.


End file.
